


Taken as a Fool

by crowley



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostitution, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:20:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5255045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowley/pseuds/crowley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fish Mooney means to punish, she doesn't expect anyone to actually make it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taken as a Fool

Four hours. Four hours is how long he lasted his first day as Fish Mooney’s umbrella boy. It had been an awful rainy day, even bad for Gotham. The wind hadn’t done much to help and of course she had a busy schedule for him to keep up with. Three drops was his warning point, anything beyond that was risking his neck. Four hours of traveling from warehouse to car to club to car to restaurant to car to what felt like countless other places. He’d felt almost proud of himself for lasting four hours in such weather. It had been a test, though, of course it had. And of course failing to meet her standards meant punishment. Humility.

She didn’t even bother to look at him when they sat side by side in the car. It was the first time that day where she hadn’t immediately started planning their next destination. Oswald concentrated on his breathing, on making sure not to move his legs to be sure she couldn’t sense his anxiety. Of course she could, she was good at deciphering the vulnerabilities of others.. 

With a slow, elegant movement she wiped a droplet of water off her wrist and Oswald could not manage to breath for a moment. She inspected the smeared bead of water on her middle finger.

“Boy,” she barked, startling both Oswald and the driver. But not Butch, he was far too used to her temper. “What were the rules I put in place to allow you to have this job—no—this honor of holding my umbrella?” Finally she turned to him with a terribly intimidating gaze.

“I-I am so sorry, Ms. Mooney, ma’am,” he shook and desperately thought of more words he could say in her praise to save his skin. The burning look she gave did not falter, if anything she was loosing patience. “You, uh, you said three droplets of water, ma’am and I do fully apologize. It’s just the weather today—“

“I did not ask for any excuses, boy,” she spoke calmly this time but still with the intensity of a lion. Fish turned forward, regaining her composure as if she’d never lost it. Oswald could do nothing but shake.

She ordered the car to pull over and immediately, the driver did. Oswald’s stomach dropped and he thought for a moment he was going to be sick. This part of town was one his mother would disown him if she knew he was even near. Again she turned to him, “I’m going to take kindly upon you this time but I hope you learn from your mistakes,” her voice sounded more disappointed than angry this time around. “I want you to get out of the car and stay on these streets.”

Oswald was confused to say the least. Bosses like Fish could mean anything by that. As in, was he supposed to live like one of the homeless until he died or was there something else to the punishment?

His questions were sadly answered when she continued speaking, “I better not see or hear you leaving this area until you have made back the money I have lost from now having to cancel the rest of my plans today for not having a decent boy to simply hold my umbrella.”

“Ma’am, I do apologize for asking but… how am I supposed to make any money if I am not allowed to leave this street?” He could feel his lunch and possibly every lunch he’d ever eaten rolling in his stomach, threatening to pour out his mouth.

She laughed at his question—actually laughed. “You know, I might miss your humor.” Her face fell instantly after, “you sell your body to all the bastards who’ll take you.”

Surprisingly, his nausea immediately went away and instead was replaced with a feeling of nothingness. “My—my body, ma’am?”

Her gaze was kept with his intensely for a moment before she spoke through gritted teeth, “out.”

And he did, without any other option than probably death. He turned to close the door and perhaps beg for another chance instead but Fish smiled, waved and closed the door before he could do it himself. The car drove off, narrowly missing him by a hair width and was off into the fog and rain. 

Oswald thought he was going to cry right at that moment in the street. Of course she would give him an impossible task. No matter what comforting words his mother spoke to him, he was not conventionally attractive. The rain was no help, either, why hadn’t he taken his umbrella with him? His choice of clothing did not do much to scream out ‘whore open for business’, her goal was simply to demean himself by offering sex to others. All his plans for future Gotham domination could very well be in jeopardy if he asked the wrong person. Everyone with extra dollars in their pockets was someone with some kind of authority in Gotham. 

After a few narrow misses from cars and horns blaring, he stepped onto the sidewalk. There were no overhangs around the area but he was already soaked to the bone after the first few moments of standing out in the rain. He leaned against the wall of what seemed to be an apartment building and slide down so he could sit and wallow in his own self pity for a while. 

What would his mother say if she knew he was stuck having to do such things? She would absolutely feel betrayed that he was slandering his own name. That alone made Oswald want to tear his own hair out, open a vein and be done with his ruined life. But no, he was Oswald Cobblepot and he was an expert and getting out of bad situations. He just needed to be clever and careful.

“Are you alright?” a voice spoke up and suddenly the torrent of rain had ceased to pound upon him. He jumped at the sudden noise and gazed up, seeing a young, naively kind face. Genuine concern was worn behind the man’s fogged glasses.

The young man was wearing a suit, not cheap as far as he could tell by the fabric, no ring on any finger, no physical signs of any kind of intimacy. Everything about the kid screamed virgin. Oswald had to take advantage while he could. “I—I am now,” he grimaced at his own scratchy voice, at his own embarrassingly flirtatious line. There was no way Fish expected him to succeed but he would show her, he had to.

The stranger laughed and his smile was so bright, Oswald almost felt bad that Gotham was going to ruin the kid one day. “Do you need help getting home? It is getting late,” he looked up at the sky which was uselessly black. 

Millions of possible responses ran through his head and he did his best to keep up with finding the right words to say. You could take me to your home. All the help I need is knowing how to please you? He could feel his face burning from his own shame. “What’s your name, sir?” Is what he decided to say, not wanting to take too long to answer.

Again, the stranger laughed, “you’re blushing, that’s cute.” Oswald could feel himself only blushing more. “Edward. Edward Nygma. That’s me.” The stranger, Edward, held out a hand to help him up, which Oswald quickly took. 

“Peter Humboldt,” he introduced himself. Of course there was no way he could use his actual name while he was trying to whoo a man into paying him for… sex. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Peter.” That smile was so pure it was almost annoying. “Now, perhaps I should really walk you home so you don’t get sick from the rain.” 

Oswald cleared his throat and looked around the area, trying to gain his bearings, to find out what he could use to his advantage. When he found it, he turned to smile at the kid, “This way, if you don’t mind allowing me to share umbrella space with you.”

“Not at all,” he spoke so quietly Oswald could barely hear him over the rain. They began to walk the opposite way Edward had come. And they did so, Oswald was surprised to find that his company really was happy to share his umbrella, seeing as how he made sure it completely shielded Oswald even if it meant being in the barrage of rain, himself. It was almost nice and brought a feeling of fondness. 

A few blocks down, Oswald stopped them in front of a restaurant with a hand painted sign reading La Grenouille. It was one of the fairly well known places in Gotham, at least with its upperclass. Edward furrowed his brow at the place, knowing full well this was no where near any residential areas. “I thought perhaps you’d like to take me to dinner,” Oswald offered, doing his best to keep a confident stride to his voice. 

This time, Edward blushed and it was endearing to say the least. Oswald hoped it was a blush meaning he was doing a good job. “Y-yes, absolutely, I’d love to, Peter.” He quickly reached for the door knob and opened it, ushering Oswald to enter. 

From inside, away from the rain, it was half amusing, half annoying to watch Edward struggle to close the umbrella. He chuckled nervously, glancing at Oswald while attempting a few more times before he finally closed it. The maître d’ gazed down at the two of them soaking wet, clearly already planning on kicking them out.

“Do you have a reservation?” She spoke softly with nothing but disdain dripping form every syllable. Edward opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to speak up and save the date that Oswald couldn’t help but think was his first. Cute.

“Fish Mooney,” Oswald offered, causing Edward to look over at him in surprise. The maître d’ looked down at her book, her expression displaying that she was only amusing them. A clear frown appeared when she apparently came across the name. Fish always had reservations every night, no matter what around this part of town.

“Right this way, gentlemen,” she spoke as she walked off into the lounge. Edward raised his eyebrows in surprise and gladly followed with Oswald at his side. 

A table fit for Fish Mooney would of course be on a platform in a corner so she could watch all the goings on of the place and so she could feel she was on a higher level than everyone else. Metaphorically and literally. It was a table that could fit no more than three which suited the two men rather comfortably. Edward, the gentleman he was, pulled out Oswald’s chair him while the maître d’ set their menus on their table and told them that someone would be with them shortly.

Edward sat himself in his own chair and adjusted himself accordingly, nervously chuckling as he looked around the restaurant. Despite being in a corner, it was still well decorated, possibly the best view in the entire place. “Who is Fish Mooney? Should I be worried?” The smile on his face clearly showed that he was surprisingly not worried at all. For a kid who looked like he had money and apparently didn’t mind paying for both their meals, how had he never heard of Fish Mooney?

“My employer, she always has reservations everywhere for just-in-case scenarios,” he smiled lightly and leaned forward on the table. He laced his fingers together and thought about what move he should make next. “Do you enjoy wine, Edward?” He asked, instead.

“I’m not a big drinker but I have had a few wines that were quite pleasant, I would say,” He chuckled nervously before settling down and speaking again, “Born in captivity, I need to breathe but am not alive. I can be young or old can not die.”

Oswald was taken aback for a moment, “Is that a riddle?”

Again, Edward laughed nervously before stopping to look at the table and simultaneously adjust his glasses, “Yes. Do you… do you like riddles?”

He wanted to say no but he wasn’t so sure if that would be the correct answer. “I guess I am impartial to them.”

“Do you give up?” He positively beamed at the idea of stumping his companion with his wit and it annoyed Oswald even further.

He refused to be beaten so easily and so gave a brief moment to think before realizing he didn’t even care, “I suppose I do.”

“Oh, well, I thought it would be easy seeing as we were already talking about wine.” The smug look on his face begged to be punched. Edward appeared to see that he was being nothing more than a smug bastard and changed the subject, “what, uh, what wines do you prefer or suggest, Mr. Humboldt?”

Their server showed up the perfect time so Oswald could ask for a bottle of Arietta before the waiter dismissed himself to fetch the drink. “You are a man of very fine tastes, I see,” Edward spoke sounding more like he was asking a question.

“Is that a problem?” Oswald challenged, it would be a move to see if Edward Nygma really did have the money to pay for his services. If anything, he could steal the kid’s credit card and run.

“Not at all,” he replied simply and picked up his menu to look over the very foreign names of dishes he was far from familiar with. Oswald picked up his own menu but didn’t bother to actually look at anything, he would simply order whatever his companion was having. 

The waiter returned again, pouring their wine. Edward even requested that he leave the bottle which was impressive to say the least. The waiter stayed, waiting for their order. Edward waited a moment before speaking up to order the La Sole Grillee, to which Oswald replied to have the same. The dish was a one of the more expensive items which had him satisfied that he had gotten lucky to have had the kid run into him.

“I panicked. I honestly have no idea what I just ordered,” Edward spoke up once the waiter had left. 

“I just followed your lead,” Oswald replied and they both gave a short, awkward laugh together. When they quieted down, he knew he couldn’t let the conversation die, “What do you do for work, Edward?”

The kid picked up his glass of wine to take a sip and put it down again before replying, “I’ve been working for the GCPD for a little over five months now.”

Those words did not bode well but Gotham was a lenient place, the kid didn’t look like a cop, anyway. “Oh?” He simply said leaning forward on the table further to encourage the conversation to continue. 

“I’m just in forensics, I don’t exactly have the physique to take anyone down,” he took another drink of his wine, “or be intimidating enough to get bribes, I should say.” Edward seemed bitter at the aspect. “What is that you do, Mr. Humboldt?”

“Please call me—“ he had to pause to remember the name he had given Edward earlier, “Peter, just Peter.” He reached forward to take a hearty gulp of his own wine. “You like riddles, so why don’t you guess?” He thought he was being clever.

Edward’s face lit up at the aspect and began, “Well, assuming you’re in your work clothes currently, no matter how damp they may still be, you dress rather dashingly. I assume you had no plans to wear them otherwise, seeing as you’re gracing me with your presence here. You also do not dress conventionally, so I can’t imagine any kind of office job. Added to that, your leg prevents you from walking to much, again an assumption, but I can guess your job is relatively sedentary,” he paused to mull over his own findings. Another drink of his wine and I moved to fill it again for him. “Your boss clearly has connections and quite possibly has authority over the city in some way. But not in politics, again because of your choice of clothing…”

Watching Edward openly gaze at everything Oswald had to offer was endearing and comforting in that he apparently found his appearance appealing in some way. Another bonus for his plan. 

“Being able to use your boss’s name to get into such a place as this without fear of repercussion means that you’re most likely close to your employer,” he tapped the table rapidly with all his fingers, thinking. “A secretary is the closest guess I can manage. An unconventional one.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Impressive deducing, Edward.” he took another drink of his wine. “And very flattering.”

“Am I correct?” He asked eagerly, the puppy dog smile on his face begging for confirmation of his wit.

Oswald took the time to draw out any anticipation, taking yet another drink of his wine, which this time Edward moved to fill for him. “You are correct, yes,” he smiled, which only caused the other man’s to grow wider.

The waiter returned again, placing their identical dishes in front of them. It was very close to being a full fish, only missing its face and not much else. The waiter bowed and left them both to stare at their dishes in distaste. 

“Are you at all fond of seafood?” Edward asked picking up his fork, despite the grimace placed on his face. 

“Not at all,” Oswald replied, not bothering to even touch the food. 

Edward took that as permission to put down his own fork. He cleared his throat and pushed the plate forward so he could mimic Oswald’s previous action of leaning forward and lacing his fingers together. “Would you perhaps like to accompany me somewhere else? Perhaps my apartment? Unless I am being too forward or moving to fast then by all means—“

Oswald laughed lightly and raised a hand for him to stop. This was the time to strike, not the best setting but it was now or never. GCPD or not. Edward was a good kid but he’d taken advantage of worse. Though, not in this situation. Fish had never given him an amount but he had to think of a high enough number to satisfy her. So he threw out a shot in the dark. “Seven thousand.”

Edward’s smile didn’t falter but he furrowed his brow in obvious confusion. Had he made a mistake? “I’m sorry?” Is all he asked. 

He had to keep his confidence so he cleared his throat and spoke again, “Seven thousand dollars.”

Probably out of nervous habit, Edward pushed up his glasses again and reached for his wine. “I’m… I’m sorry but are you a… are you a prostitute?” He whispered the last part, considering their setting. 

“Not usually,” Oswald spoke. “But if there’s a problem, I could spend my time elsewhere.” He moved to get up from the table, hoping for the kid to fall for the bait.

“Wait, wait!” Edward quickly, desperately reach for Oswald’s sleeve, then slide to hold his hand, instead. “I’ll pay, I’m just unfamiliar with these kinds of things.”

The smile on his face couldn’t have been wider. He grasped Edward’s hand fully, holding it in two hand as delicately as he could. “Would you like to show me your apartment then, Edward?”

 

It had still been rainy when they’d left and it continued to be rainy as they walked not quite familiar streets towards wherever Edward lived. Apparently the kid lived in a not so great area and his building had thick, rolling doors made of metal. It was cold in the apartment but at least his clothing had finally dried for the most part. Once inside, Edward closed his umbrella and took off his jacket, he then reached to offer to take Oswald’s. 

“How, um, how exactly does this work?” He spoke up as he hung up both their coats on a rack. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Oswald cleared his throat again and turned to face the other man. “Where’s your bedroom?” 

“Oh, yes, of course,” He spoke as he rushed to a door off to the right of his living room. He opened it to reveal a perfectly made bed and not much else. Oswald approached and did his best to be alluring by pulling him into the room by his necktie. They walked together, Oswald slowly leaning forwards to place a kiss on Edward’s neck, being the furthest he could reach. Eventually the back of Oswald’s legs hit the bed and they toppled over together. 

Edward courteously shifted his legs so he was straddling Oswald’s hips. He leaned forward, so close to the other man, his breath ghosting over his face. “Can I kiss you?” 

Weighing his odds, Oswald really didn’t mind and he thought of raising his prices for such a request but something about Edward was appealing and he could almost see himself asking the same thing.

“Yes,” is all he said in reply before his lips were captured. Reluctant to admit it, even to himself, Edward was a good kisser. Not that Oswald had had too much experience. 

A hand pulled at Oswald’s tucked in shirt, freeing a section so it could travel up further his stomach. Edward retreated when he could go no further and broke the kiss to undo the buttons on the other man’s shirt, revealing the impossibly pale skin underneath. Veins were visible scattered near his collar bones and Edward bent down to trace them with his tongue. The feeling was pleasant but awkward seeing as Oswald hadn’t been intimate with anyone for years. 

When it seemed that Edward was satisfied, he moved up to Oswald’s neck, biting and sucking lightly, not enough to make any kind of mark. To say the least, he had a weak spot and he could feel blood running south as Edward moved a hand to run over one of his nipples. The pleasure brought him to reality, realizing he hadn’t asked for the money up front and should probably work more in case he didn’t live up to seven thousand dollar expectations. 

He rolled them over, settling between Edward’s thighs and began work on the kid’s belt buckle. It was tossed to the floor and immediately, he began on the buttons on his pants. Edward’s hands suddenly came to grab his wrists, stopping him. Oswald looked up, slightly miffed. No way the kid wasn’t enjoying it he had nearly a full tent in his pants to prove it. Edward looked up sheepishly, “sorry, sorry but… I was wondering if you could maybe do something? If it’s included in the price?”

Oswald was reluctantly intrigued and leaned back, so he could simultaneously shuck off his shirt and listen to the kid’s request. “I’m listening.”

Edward smiled and looked towards the ceiling to avoid Oswald’s gaze. He turned to his side drawer and reached for it but being unable to do so he laughed nervously. “I guess I wanted to know if you wouldn’t mind tying me up? Just my hands, nothing fancy. Also There’s, um, lube and condoms in there as well.”

“I’m glad you’re prepared,” Oswald smiled and opened the drawer, himself to find a cheap pair of handcuffs, nothing that could be even close to comfortable and would no doubt leave marks if not cuts for a few days. No, he was more creative than that. When he leaned back, nothing in hand, Edward looked disappointed but understanding. The kid opened his mouth to say something but was quickly quieted by Oswald moving to fiddle with his tie, loosening it enough to pull it fully from around his neck. 

Taking both ends of the tie in his hands, Oswald scooted back even further. “Roll over,” he commanded and Edward pleasantly did upon request. He took the kid’s tie and wrapped it tightly around his wrists behind his back but not tight enough to cut off circulation. Being given this power felt… nice. He felt completely in control for the first time in a long time. Perhaps he’d have to thank the kid if they ever crossed paths again. Instead of asking Edward to roll over again, he just pushed at his hip until they were back face to face. The kid looked dazed, eyes hazy with lust and Oswald didn’t even care that he bit his lip to hold back a moan.

“What’s black, white and red all over?” Edward rattled off quickly, perhaps out of panic. 

Oswald smiled and slowly shook his head at the riddle. He leaned down and hovered over Edward, their lips mere moments apart. “I don’t know,” he replied smirking wider at how the kid’s breath hitched.

“You,” Edward said. It was honestly sweet and Oswald supposed he might as well get the party started. He started with moving to unbutton the kid’s shirt, taking it slow and kissing his chest all the way down until he reached the last button just below his navel. Edward’s stomach quivered as he lowered himself and brushed his cheek against the stiff bulge hidden by the kid’s pants. Admittedly, Oswald really was finding himself being aroused by the situation and Edward, himself. 

Finding no reason to delay, he began again on unbuttoning the pants before him, pulling down the zipper with his teeth, a trick he’d been told about from Fish. As he looked up, he could see Edward breathing heavily, eyes still lidded and full of lust. He pulled on the legs of the kid’s trousers but only enough so they were down to his thighs, revealing a pair of dark green briefs. Finally vaguely free, Edward’s cock flopped against his stomach, still confined by tight underwear. He rubbed his palm over the bulge and sat up to position himself differently so he could sit straddling the kid. He popped open the button on his own pants and attempted to make a show by biting his lip and lifting his hips so he could push them down his legs. 

Edward laughed roughly, almost a slight sob, “it really is torture to not be able to touch you right now.” He then let out a long breath through his nose. “You’re beautiful.”

That was another moment that took Oswald aback, how genuine the kid’s feelings seemed to be. Nothing but pure adoration and lust filled his face. But he had to keep that in mind, it was all just different versions of lust. To keep his mind as well as Edward’s mind off of such things, he lowered his hips so both their cocks rubbed together. A soft groan immediately left the kid’s throat despite the mediocre friction provided but he couldn’t deny that it was still hot as hell. He shifted his weight forwards, feeling pressure shift from his shaft to base before he moved back again. Oswald kept his hands rubbing at Edward’s side, slowly moving upwards until he reached the kid’s nipples, which he rubbed his thumbs over. With each thrust, some kind of reaction came out of Edward, either by biting his lip or releasing a small moan. It began to not be enough, feeling the need to escalate the situation. He pulled down Edward’s underwear, taking a moment to admire the dick before him. Regular in width, slightly longer than average, uncut. Nothing special but it fit the man before him and it was a glorious sight, indeed. He pulled his own underwear off, struggling slightly to move his legs without leaving his position. He took both their dicks in his hand, giving a few dry rubs. It was a thousand times better than simply frotting but it could be better. Releasing them both, he reached for Edward’s side table drawer, pulling out the small bottle of lubricant and a few condoms for future use. The cap of the bottle opened with a slight click and Oswald wasted no time in pouring a generous amount on his hand. There was no point in warming it in his hand, brief discomfort was a minor distraction from his urgency to continue. He resumed his position with their cocks perfectly lined up and grasped them with his lubed hand. It was, indeed, cold but it warmed up fast as he ran his hand up and down both their shafts.

“Would you… would you fuck me?” Edward asked, his eyes no longer lidded but closed. His face showed that he wouldn’t last much longer. 

Another smirk found its way upon Oswald’s face even if Edward couldn’t see it. “No,” he answered simply moving down back between the kid’s legs, his face right in front of Edward’s groin. He reached for a condom, quickly ripping it open with his teeth. Taking a moment to situate it between his lips, he bent down to inch it slowly down Edward’s dick, stopping when he felt his gag reflex reacting. He slid it the rest of the way down with his had and look directly at the kid, “tell me immediately when you’re going to cum, alright?”

Edward gave a vigorous nod, not opening his eyes but furrowing his brows. Oswald kept a hand to stroke the shaft while he wrapped his lips around the head. He sucked lightly while slowly increasing he speed of his strokes. It took less than a minute for the kid to choke out that he was going to cum. Oswald stopped his movements as soon as the kid spoke up, only gripping Edward’s shaft tightly, possibly too tightly.

“Oh ow,” Edward breathed, finally opening his eyes and Oswald released his grasp. He took a moment to pinch the condom and pull it off, tossing it elsewhere. It wasn’t his problem to clean up. “That was incredibly unsatisfying but I assume that was your plan?” He looked up hopefully.

“How could I leave you like that?” He smiled, trying to add a slight motherly tone to his voice like Fish had once taught him. “I assumed you’d be fast.”

Another laugh escaped the kid and he threw his head back on the pillow. “Are you… going to fuck me now?”

There was no doubt in Oswald’s mind that Edward was a virgin—less so than before but still, any kind of penetration would most likely be a fiasco he could do without. “No,” he repeated, moving back up to his straddling position again. He reached off to the right, where he had left the small pile of condoms and used his teeth to open another, pulling it out to roll onto Edward’s dick once more. “You’re going to fuck me instead, if you don’t mind.” 

“Not—not at all,” Edward breathed out, gaze unwavering at Oswald’s own dick. The lust filled eyes upon him was once again, endearing but also made him feel as if he should hide. He couldn’t do such a thing, so he ignored it by moving to grab the lubricant again. There was no reason to reserve the it so he spread a good amount on two fingers before reaching behind himself to pry himself open in preparation. Edward turned his attention to Oswald’s face as he slid a finger inside himself followed quickly by another, eager to continue. He thrust his fingers a good few times to be sure, spreading them to add some ease and make sure he’d be able to walk correctly tomorrow. Or as correctly as he could. He removed his fingers, finally and poured more lubricant onto his hand to spread onto Edward’s dick. The kid hadn’t softened at all during its time of neglect and twitched within his fist as he took it. He inched forward on his knees, leaning more on his good one so he could move better. With Edward’s dick in his hand, he guided it as best he could so he it would properly align. He lowered his hips to test the waters of how close they were. Finding no problem, he lowered his hips further, feeling the head of Edward’s cock pressing against his entrance. It was now or never and Oswald would be damned if he left with blue balls, so he sunk down lower, feeling the head of Edward’s dick slowly entering him. The kid’s jaw dropped open and it was easy to tell that he was trying to keep his eyes open to see the show. In the end, Edward couldn’t do it and just closed his eyes in the ecstasy as Oswald finally lowered himself fully onto the kid’s dick. 

He had to give himself a moment to adjust to the feeling of a cock inside him. It wasn’t the first time but it had been more than a few years. “You alright?” Oswald thought to ask, breathing deep to relax his muscles. 

“You’re… really tight,” the kid said and smiled, opening one eye to look up at him. Oswald smiled back and lifted his hips slowly to move back down. “Really tight.”

Feeling more adjusted the the intrusion, Oswald did his best to speed up his pace. With only one reliable leg, he was still forced to go rather slow. Edward appeared to have no complaints as with each downward movement a slight moan slid past his opened lips. “Is that a bad thing?” 

Since he couldn’t move his hips quickly, he could at least lower his hips with more force, fucking himself of Edward’s dick harder. The motion erased any kind of reply from the kid but that was fine, it meant Oswald could focus on jerking his own dick.

“Choke me,” Edward squeaked out mid-thrust. It caught Oswald off guard slightly but he didn’t stop his thrusts, more for his own sake. Before he could say anything, the kid spoke again, “Peter please choke me.”

The kid was fucked up, that’s for sure but at least he knew what he was into. He kept a hand wrapped around his dick and used his other to wrap around Edward’s neck. He only squeezed lightly at first but tightened it slowly until he could feel the kid struggling to breathe. Edward bit his lip and moaned, loud and deep. “You’re into some different shit, kid.”

Edward opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t with a tight hand wrapped around his throat. Choking the kid gave Oswald better leverage to move his hips. He jerked at his own dick and couldn’t hold back a moan as Edward’s cock hit a sweet spot inside him. In response, the kid gave a mighty moan, himself and lifted his hips up as best he could to meet Oswald’s thrusts. At this rate, Edward wouldn’t last too much longer. To be fair Oswald felt that he wouldn’t last much longer, either. He let go of his own cock to lean down and bite at Edward’s collar bone. Another moan ripped past his lips so deep Oswald could feel it beneath his palm. The kid lifted his hips again and with quivering legs, the kid came. 

Oswald did not yet release his grip of Edward’s throat but instead leaned up again to give a few quick jerks to his dick, moving his hips up and down again uselessly on the kid’s softening cock before spilling out all over his hand and Edward’s stomach. Finally, he let go of his grasp on the kid’s neck and rolled over to lay down on the bed. He tried to be subtle with wiping his cum covered hand on the sheets as he took deep breaths while Edward gasped for breath beside him. 

“Thank you,” the kid finally spoke, still trying to get his breath back, “thank you.”

 

Edward had paid fully in bills he’d taken out of a box in his closet, mentioning something about his grandparents never trusting banks after the great depression. Oswald didn’t care but he gratefully took and carefully counted each hundred dollar bill. It made quite a stack but it was all there. Edward had tried to get him to stay, offering to make him dinner, offering him a drink but Oswald had a club to get back to. He told the kid that this hadn’t happened and left as Edward watched him walk down the hall looking utterly lost and distraught. 

 

Fish almost didn’t let him into the club, not believing he’d managed such a feat. He had to show to stack of bills to Butch, who only laughed at him before he was able to step out of the rain. When he smacked it down on the table in front of her, she merely raised a brow but it was enough to make Oswald smirk, knowing he’d won out in the end again. 

“Perhaps I should have you do this more often,” she laughed and motioned to the chair next to her, allowing him to sit down. 

He knew she was joking but he really hoped she wouldn’t make him do such a thing. In a way, he hoped he wouldn’t have to for Edward’s sake. For some reason the idea of fucking anyway else felt like… cheating. Oswald shoved that thought back and planned to never bring it up to himself again. There was nothing between them and there never would be. What mattered was that he was back as Fish’s umbrella boy again.

**Author's Note:**

> i drank a lot of beer to write this.  
> Unbeta'd, sorry.  
> if you can't tell it was kind of influenced by for_autumn_i_am's work [Count to Zero](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5125376).


End file.
